


Truly, Madly, Deeply

by spoonfuIIofsuga



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pining, Reunions, Songfic, but like not really angst?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29277381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoonfuIIofsuga/pseuds/spoonfuIIofsuga
Summary: "Hajime should not be as jaded as he currently is at the ripe age of twenty-five. But here he is, living his life in monotony, feeling like the only adventure in his life is when he gets a really unique client at work. He sighs as the thought lingers. How did he let himself get to this point? Where did his spark of life go?Oh. Yeah."Sometimes, serendipity is the best treatment for a heart full of longing.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 10
Kudos: 60





	Truly, Madly, Deeply

**Author's Note:**

> After all of this time being in the Haikyuu!! fandom, I've finally written my first IwaOi piece.
> 
> The fic itself is inspired by the song Truly, Madly, Deeply by Savage Garden, so please check it out if you haven't already!
> 
> A special thanks to my beta reader bluekeiji for helping me get my thoughts in order!
> 
> This was such a fun, extremely fluffy fic to write, so I hope you all enjoy it!

In the grand scheme of things, five years is but a blip on one’s clock. Barely a minute—just shy of a second passing. 

This is a known fact. But then why has Hajime experienced a lifetime of change within the last five, measly years? He (unintentionally) spends every day brooding over it. Over his morning coffee as he contemplates adding “just one more spoonful of sugar.” Or as he passes the nearby athletic facility. But he especially does so as he goes by the local elementary school and sees children playing with bugs or alien plushies.

_That one brought back some memories._

Every day, Hajime must actively pull himself out of a nostalgic daze. However, the moments have grown to be ones of longing and desire rather than simple, wholesome nostalgia.

 _I hope he’s doing well._ Every thought in Hajime’s mind always finds its way back to those words. _I hope he’s doing well. I need to do well. For him._

Hajime should not be as jaded as he currently is at the ripe age of twenty-five. But here he is, living his life in monotony, feeling like the only adventure in his life is when he gets a really unique client at work. He sighs as the thought lingers. How did he let himself get to this point? Where did his spark of life go? 

_Oh. Yeah._

As he trudges through his morning commute in the exact same manner as he always does, a sudden burst of inspiration hits him. He cuts a quick left down a side street to pay a visit to a shop he hasn’t been to in years.

He steps into the coffee shop only to find the already cramped space relatively crowded. Hajime bumps shoulders with a few fellow patrons and as he makes his way to the register, he hears a completed order that reminds him to schedule a dentist appointment.

“One large quad, low-fat, hazelnut macchiato with extra caramel drizzle.”

Hajime visibly cringes as he pays for his medium Americano but, as he meanders through the maze of customers, his eyes subconsciously wander towards the entrance. At that moment, time doesn’t just slow down—it stops altogether. 

Since childhood, he was required to train his eyes to spot a certain tall, slim, obnoxious brunet in any crowd. It was one of his duties as the “Chosen Babysitter for the Eternal Man-Child,” as Makki so eloquently phrased it.

In the mere moments it took for the mahogany haired patron to walk out the door and onto the bustling sidewalk, Hajime was only able to grab a fleeting glance of a tall, broad back shrouded in a blue sweater and perfectly coiffed hair that was much shorter than the fluff from his memories.

And in those mere moments, his body ran on autopilot. Completely neglecting his surroundings, Hajime attempts to wade through the ocean of bodies separating him and the other man, but his target escapes his grasp before he even makes it halfway. 

The clock starts once again as Hajime’s order is called. He begrudgingly snaps out of his daze to wade back through the cramped space, his desire for nostalgia strengthening like a taut string, ready to snap.

His day continues on without a hitch, but something keeps bringing Hajime back to the events of this morning. Was it really Oikawa? No, it couldn’t have been. He doesn’t even know where Oikawa _is,_ let alone if he serendipitously made his way to _Tokyo_ of all places.

Five years of radio silence doesn’t help prolong any sort of relationship, but Hajime, innocently, would still consider Oikawa Tooru his best friend. Maybe even his soulmate, but Hajime knows they differ in the underlying allusions of what a “soulmate” really is. 

The life of an Athletic Trainer slash Personal Trainer is not one brimming with celebrity clients or wall-to-wall clientele drama. No, during the off-season for volleyball, Hajime’s day to day life is comprised of calling the national team members to make sure they are properly following their regimen, yelling at dumb college freshmen for their misuse of the squat rack, and politely turning down any flirting from single moms at the gym. 

But something in the cosmos must be out for Hajime today. Something must have happened in a past life to curse him in this exact moment. The athletic center allows patrons to queue up pre-approved songs to play throughout the facility and let’s just say some gym-goers don’t possess Hajime’s taste in music. 

This is nothing out of the ordinary for him, though. His best friend’s taste in music resembles his favorite foods—sugary: bubblegum pop music that graces the top 40 charts. Hajime grew used to the torture that was Oikawa Tooru’s rendition of _Buttons_ by the Pussycat Dolls—it made him stronger, more resilient.

That facade shattered into itty-bitty pieces the second he stepped out of his office only to hear the first few measures of _Stitches_ by Shawn Mendes. No _normal_ person would think twice about the implications of the song—some college girl or mom probably put the song on.

Hajime, on the other hand, _knows._ He _knows_ and remembers the dozens of long bus rides to volleyball tournaments that always had the song playing as they pulled out of the Aoba Johsai parking lot. He can practically _hear_ the former captain humming the chorus while changing in the locker room after practice. Hajime _knows_ because _he_ was the one that showed Oikawa this song.

Bolting out of his office like a mad man, Hajime frantically makes his rounds throughout the facility. Hoping, no, _praying_ he sees a familiar face humming along to the melody. As the song concludes and _oh-so_ smoothly transitions into _Lemonade_ by Gucci Mane, Hajime’s search was for naught, and he is back to square one. 

He slumps at his desk, elbows on the table, head in hands. The divide between him and his best friend once felt like the river they frequented back in Miyagi—expansive and impassable at first, but once you get your feet wet, the joy comes from reminiscing on how hard the first step seemed initially, and how easy it actually was.

Now? Now, Hajime is lost at sea. His first step did not lessen his burden—it did the exact opposite. He is drowning in a sea of repressed memories, emotions, and actions never taken. He knows his best friend is on the other side but this is a path he must take in solitude and the hand he would hold for support is nowhere within reach. 

Just as Hajime decides to succumb to drowning in the depths of self-pity and the reality of his mundane life, his phone rings. Without even looking at the caller ID, he picks up.

“Hello?”

_“Wow, good afternoon to you too, Rainbow Brite.”_

Hajime scoffs, “like you normally exude sunshine and rainbows, Mattsun.”

_“Fair point, my man. Anyways! My Broody Best Friend senses were tingling and since I’m currently meme-warring with Hiro, process of elimination alerted me that you’re feeling expressy depressy today.”_

“I am no—”

_“Don’t even finish that sentence, Iwa. Come on, let’s go out tonight and have a good old-fashioned night of debauchery and shenanigans!”_

Hajime runs his hand down his face. Debauchery and shenanigans to his friends usually insinuates harassing bartenders with cringe-worthy pickup lines and drinking more sake than is socially acceptable on a Tuesday evening.

It was chaotic, but it was different and Hajime knows that in their own twisted way, Mattsun and Makki are offering him a hand—an unspoken agreement that though they, too, are drowning in their own depths, they can at least do so together.

“Okay fine, but I’m picking the bar.”

_“Deal! Catch ya later, sweetums!”_

He hangs up without remorse and continues on with his workday, feeling suddenly buoyant in knowing he is not as alone as he thought mere moments ago. 

Dusk approaches as Hajime nears the designated bar. He enters and immediately buys a drink, wanting to dull the whirlpool of thoughts and emotions that refuse to still in his mind and heart. He orders a beer and floats his way over to one of the corner booths at the back of the establishment. Makki and Mattsun arrive shortly after, bringing two, full pitchers of beer with them to the table. 

_Oh, so we’re all having a day, aren’t we?_

Dusk rolls into night as soft scoffs evolve into roaring laughter. Hajime is lost in the moment but is comforted by it. He no longer feels weighed down by his numerous _what if’s_ or the strong hold a certain-someone still has on his heart. 

No, his burden is being shared—openly and willingly. The three grown men down the two, full pitchers of beer in record time, so Hajime offers to grab a refill. Thankfully, his high alcohol tolerance is coming in clutch, so he navigates through the valley of drunkards with little to no difficulty. 

Hajime places the empty pitchers on the bar and relishes in his quiet mind space. He is thrown out of his reverie suddenly when he feels a hand settle perfectly between his shoulder blades and turns around and green meets the warm expanses of chocolate brown. Hajime’s mouth drops and if the bar behind him wasn’t supporting his back, he would have fallen to the floor limp. 

Words fail to form as he attempts to pull any coherent thought from his roaring mind. Thankfully, the silence fades quickly as he is welcomed by a soft, “yahoo, Iwa-chan!”

Hajime is sent back to the days of his youth, mindlessly and innocently playing in the river by his home. He rushed in without abandon, slipping and falling on the smooth rocks beneath his feet. The 8-year-old worried about the river carrying him away as he struggled to regain a solid footing until a hand reached out to help him stand firm once again.

“Tooru,” he chokes out. Someone slaps a card on the wooden bar behind him as Makki whispers in his ear, “go, you’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

He has neither time nor brainpower to formulate an answer and he is dragged out of the bar by his wrist by the man he’s been longing for over the past five years. The brisk evening air brushes over their skin, leaving the only area of warmth at the juncture between Oikawa’s palm and Hajime’s wrist. They turn to face each other and Hajime can finally see the waterfalls silently cascading from his companion’s eyes.

“Iwa-chan—” The remainder of his sentence remains on his tongue as Hajime wraps the taller man in a crippling embrace. Oikawa immediately falls back into habit and puts his head in its rightful place at the crook of Hajime’s neck. They remain like that for who knows how long—words unspoken, all thoughts expressed through one embrace that screams, _I’m never letting you go again._

They pull away, but the strength of the magnetism between them keeps their hands thoroughly wrapped in one another. 

The extended silence is broken by Oikawa, but the lingering tenderness still remains. “I owe you an apology, Iwa-chan.”

“Oikawa—”

A finger is placed over his lips. 

“Nope! My turn, Iwa-chan! I wrote and prepared this masterful apology so I’m going to say it!”

Hajime lifts his eyebrow in question but nods.

“I’m not proud of my actions. I’m not proud of the fact that my first reaction to realizing my feelings for you was to run. I’m not proud that I was so innately selfish that I thought it would hurt you less if I cut ties between us.”

Hajime swallows and tightens his hold on Oikawa.

“I’m not proud of what I’ve done. But Iwa-ch—no, Hajime—you’re my rock. No, you’re like a frickin’ mountain range in my life! Impenetrable and stoic, grounded and beautiful. A marker on a long journey. I’ve been so lost without you.”

Tears finally break through Hajime’s wall and trickle down. Oikawa removes one of his hands from Hajime’s and gently places it on his cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing the droplets away.

“I moved in a few days ago and immediately called Makki to bully him into telling me all of your usual haunts. I was terrified at the thought of showing up at your place unannounced and I knew that even a brute like Iwa-chan wouldn’t hit me in public!” A quiet laugh escapes Hajime’s mouth without his knowledge. 

Oikawa regains his poise, hand still lightly cupping the other’s cheek. 

“It took me five years, Haji, but I finally have my answer to your question.”

The two men take a deep breath together in preparation. Hajime knows he is shaking, but he cannot be bothered to hold back his emotions any longer. 

“I wanna stand with you on a mountain, I wanna bathe with you in the sea, I wanna lay like this forever, until the sky falls down on me.”

The silence of the night engulfs them, neither one wanting to shatter the moment. That is until Hajime’s bellowing laugh shocks them out of their daze.

“Did you just tell me you love me back with a Savage Garden song, Shittykawa?”

“I thought it fit the mood! Don’t make fun of me for trying to be romantic, Iwa-chan!”

Hajime returns the favor and wipes the pout off of Oikawa with the pad of his thumb before reaching up and just barely brushing his lips against the corner of his mouth.

“I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy. I'll be your hope, I'll be your love—be everything that you need. I'll love you more with every breath, truly, madly, deeply do. I will be strong, I will be faithful, 'cause I'm counting on you.”

They both laugh at the sheer cheesiness of their second attempt at a love confession. Oikawa places both of his hands on Hajime’s cheeks as the two bask in the moment. The ocean between them still exists, in a way, but now the journey is much less treacherous to navigate with a trusted companion by their side.

“I can’t believe you thought I was going to ambush you if you showed up at my apartment, Shittykawa,” Hajime scoffs.

“Well, you always devolve to your brutish nature when it comes to me, Iwa-chan! It scared me from even attempting to see if your new apartment meets my high standards—I’ll need to offer a thorough inspection at some point.” He crosses his arms and offers his best pout, leading Hajime to grin at the familiar, childish action.

Hajime steps back and grabs a hold of Oikawa’s wrist before leading them back towards his home. Oikawa trips a few times as he attempts to catch up to Hajime’s brisk pace.

“Iwa-chan? Where are we going?” he questions. “Makki and Mattsun are still inside the bar.

Hajime glances back at his partner once more and finally, everything has settled back to where it once was. Over the last five years, Hajime felt completely uprooted, like the earth underneath him was constantly shifting and he could never find solid ground. Now, with Oikawa’s hand firmly in his, illuminated by the soft glow of street lamps, Hajime’s world regained its missing piece, like a tectonic plate shifting back to its rightful place.

Hajime feels fondness wash over him as he looks at Oikawa, noticing how their hands fit together perfectly as they have for over a decade. 

“Home, Shittykawa. We’re going home.”

**Author's Note:**

> *closes computer after the sheer amount of UWUs I just threw into one document*
> 
> For more chaotic HQ content, you can follow me on Twitter here!


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